


redemption through chaos

by clawsnbeak



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crime Fighting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, Femme Fatale, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Genderbending, Hurt/Comfort, Joseph Kavinsky is His Own Warning, Making Out, Slow Burn, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clawsnbeak/pseuds/clawsnbeak
Summary: "Rowan Lynch likes the feeling of power, though the guilt always manages to poke through, no matter how bad the men she kills were."When femme fatale Rowan Lynch does a final mission with her ex-teammates and ex-best friends, she starts to realise it is more than she bargained for. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made and sometimes forgiven, romances bloom, and, yes, Kavinsky dies in the end.





	redemption through chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who is reading this! I didn't think it would be such a big monster of a fic but here we are. Tags are to be added as the story progresses.
> 
> But for now, enjoy!

Rowan Lynch did not like men. She didn’t like their filthy hands on the silky fabric of her too short slip-dress. She didn’t like the smell of beer that always lingered on their breath when they whispered filth in her ear. She didn’t like their smug grins when they follow her to the back-alley of whatever club they’re at, thinking they finally have what they want. 

She does, however, like the way their faces morph in shock when her blade cuts through their intestines. She likes the way they crumple to the ground, lying next to her high heels in the worthless heap they are. She likes seeing the blood pooling next to their bodies, though she hates the clean-up. She likes the feeling of power, though the guilt always manages to poke through, no matter how bad the men she kills were.

The loud thumping of the music inside reverberates through the closed door, hopefully shielding Rowan’s soft groans as she drags the man to the already laid out body bag. She methodically places him inside and zips it up covering the metallic stench of blood. 

_ He wasn’t a good man. _

Rowan chants it all the way to the dumpsters where she places the body in the shadows, hidden from street view. They would discover him in the morning but nobody would know it was her doing.

Covering her tracks was as easy as breathing now. She knew how to stab in the most efficient way, how to get blood out of back alley street tiles, how to make herself disappear after.

Rowan had disabled the camera’s placed from the club doors to the dumpsters with one of the few remaining gadgets she had kept from her time on a team, back when she was still considered a hero for her actions. She had gone into the club then, makeup on and wig in place, the clacking of her high heels muffled by the loud music. 

She had spotted him almost immediately, his back towards the bar, his hand on the lower back of an uncomfortable looking girl next to him. Roswell Price, a typical bad guy in this day and age, meaning he was a rapist but he was rich enough to evade the accusations, the police reports, the evidence pointed towards him. He wasn’t going to get away with it, though.

The throng of club-goers, dancing drunkenly to the beat of an overhyped pop song, was easy to get through, she moved with them, fluently as though the people became a part of her. Price didn’t see her yet, he made no effort to take his eyes off the pretty girl in front of him. There was no rush, though, she would get him eventually.

It didn’t take long once she was seated beside him, beer in hand. Her dress rode up her body, revealing more of her thigh than she was comfortable with, but it caught his attention once his eyes started to wander. He honed in on the strip of bare skin she was showing and ditched the other girl within seconds.

_ Good _ , Rowan thought.

“Hello, beautiful,” Price’s voice as slimy as he was. It took every ounce of self-control Rowan possessed to not cringe. Instead, she put on a sly smile, one she had perfected in front of her broken mirror at home.

They went through the motions of sweet-talking, him buying her another drink, this one stronger than the one she ordered before. It was always the same, with every bad guy she seduced. There was always a pattern they followed and she went with it, waiting for the right moment to whisper “wanna get out of here?” her voice not the usual deep and raspy tone but sweet and sultry instead. 

The man, whatever man, would always nod, hiding their eagerness and desperation behind a sly smirk and a hot hand on her lower back, the place she would focus on when showering away the night later.

Rowan would take them to alleyways, hiding them in the dark, and when the man was about to lean in, his hands crawling up to her breasts, she would stab them with the long knife hidden in her thigh holster. She knew exactly where to aim, years of practise steadying her motions, keeping her calm.

Later, when she had disposed of the body, she would leave the alleyway, the coat hidden in a bag behind the dumpster covering the blood tracks on her dress. She would haul a cab, pretending she was just another drunk tourist, tired from clubbing in a strange city with even stranger men.

The cab driver would be ordered to stop at a busy street that held multiple hotels and she always paid in cash, Rowan couldn’t take chances on anything tracking her down. She would get into another club, duck into the public bathroom and change her outfit as quickly as she could in one of the stalls. The black slip-dress would be exchanged for a t-shirt and jeans, clothes that don’t attract attention. The wig always comes off paired with relief, the shame of the night stuffed into her bag. Then it was time for make-up but she couldn’t take too long before someone would get suspicious, so she just wiped away the worst, checking in her handheld mirror if she was set to go. Rowan would glance through the split in the door and slip out when the bathroom was empty. Washing her bloody hands was always stressful, she only had so much time before somebody walked in and saw what she was doing, but she always managed.

Rowan would get another beer, whether it was to celebrate another kill or drink away the lingering guilt, she didn’t know, but it gave her an alibi. She chatted with some people, smiled at the bartenders, and went home at a respectable time.

It was always the same formula she repeated without fail. Each time it was getting harder to carry out.

Rowan knew that the murder made up for the despicable things these men did. She had killed rapists, murderers, child offenders, and many more on her list, ticking them off as she went. Though, as she stood over the men, laying in their own pool of blood, she saw her father. 

Niall Lynch was a bad man, not quite like the men she killed, but he wasn’t good either, Rowan knew that. But he was still her father, the person who taught her to fight, to kill, to dream of a better life than he could provide her with. He taught her how to use her powers, though she didn’t need them anymore. Not with the profession she had taken up.

There was a time when creating other realities was done before breakfast. When she was still part of a team that required her to. When she was fighting crime instead of killing it. When the only blood on her hands was her own.

She couldn’t think back to that time or she would fall back into her black pit of misery and alcohol, drowning her until the only thing that would keep her afloat were bad decisions with even worse girls.

The apartment she went back to wasn’t an accurate portrayal of the wealth she owned. Her father had left her and her sisters a fortune, but her portion of the money was stowed away in banks and savings. She knew had broken the contract and these were the consequences.

Rowan threw her bag on her wonky coffee-table and produced a stronger drink from her refrigerator. She threw herself on the couch, laying down the full-length of it. The full weight of the world came bearing down on her chest. 

Rowan Lynch wasn’t a crier, but god did she want to let it out now.

Instead, she drank and drank until she felt a pleasant buzz, one that made her reckless. She, however, refrained from calling Kavinksy, something that was getting harder to resist as time went on. At least Kavinksy made her feel as awful as she deserved. Now, she was alone in her shitty apartment with a restlessness she couldn’t shake when she could’ve been doing drugs off the hood of Kavinksy’s ugly ass car.

_ You promised. _

The promise, to not go bad again, to get help, to cut the bad people out of her life, was the only thing between her and total self-destruction, but the promise was made years ago to someone who couldn’t bear to see her now, and the wall was starting to wear down.

The ringing of her phone pulled her out of her misery spiral and back to reality. A reality where she still had to wash the blood out of her dress, where she could feel the invisible dirt of even dirtier men on her skin, where she was dizzy from the heavy flow of alcohol that made her cope.

Swearing as she fell from the couch, Rowan managed to locate her phone somewhere in her bag beneath some rope and chloroform. Her eyes were too bleary to see the caller ID but she picked up anyway, even if it was just to stop the ringing. 

“Rowan? Are you there? It’s me, Gansey.”

Rowan froze, her hand shaking too badly to keep ahold of her phone. She willed herself to move but she could only stare straight ahead, thoughts whirling through her mind at rapid speed. Reality and dream seemed to intertwine. How many nights after that fateful one had she laid awake in the hopes her best friend would call, ask her to come home. How many times had she checked the busted phone she never used because she still expected a message on there, telling her it was okay, she could make up for her mistakes. But it never came and she had accepted it, sought other friends. Friends that weren’t good for her or loyal in any way, but they were there at least, something she couldn’t say for the group she had been a part of before.

Gansey was still talking, calling her name, from the speaker of her phone that had landed under the table. Rowan bumped her head in her rush to grab her phone, the pain dulled by alcohol. She pressed her phone to her ear, not bothering to get up from the floor.

“I’m here,” she said, her voice raspy from disuse. 

Gansey cleared her throat on the other end of the line, a nervous habit she picked up on when they had elected her the leader, a role she hadn’t been ready to take yet but was shoved at her anyway. 

“How have you been?”

Always with the pleasantries. In a past life, Rowan would have made fun of her, bumped her shoulder, told her she sounded like a damn president. A dull ache of longing hit her, a feeling she hadn’t succumbed to in years. 

“The vodka keeps me company.”

Gansey sighed on the other end of the line. Even after years of not seeing her, Rowan could picture the way Gansey would rub at her forehead, her eyes squinting in a pained expression Rowan had been the subject of since they met. 

“I bet,” Gansey said, her voice exasperated but not unkind. Rowan pushed down the hopeful feeling brewing in her chest. She couldn’t make it right, couldn’t fix what she had done or she would’ve been given the chance right after it happened. Regret lingered, even four years after the night she could never take back.

Rowan’s regret turned to anger. Her walls shooting up at the possibility Gansey was presenting her with no means of giving it to her. She snarled, “Are you calling me to reprimand me, Regina?”

Gansey backtracked quickly, apologising for her manners like the good politician’s daughter she was, but it had already been done. Rowan’s walls were up again, though she didn’t know if she was keeping Gansey out or herself in.

“I-well-we actually need your help.”

The pleasant buzz the had alcohol left turned acidic, bile rising in her throat. Gansey hadn’t called her in those four years. For her to call now, means something must be horribly wrong. Rowan shot up from her lying state, her mind sobering immediately. 

“What happened?”

Gansey sighed. Rowan could hear her pacing on creaky floorboards and decided, for once, to stay patient. “I can’t tell you over the phone.”

“Why the fuck not?”

So much for patience.

“It’s confidential,” Gansey explained, her pace speeding up. “People could be listening in and this is too important. You have to see for yourself.”

Rowan nodded even though Gansey couldn’t see her. “When?”

“Now.”

“Now?” 

“Yes, Rowan,” it was Gansey’s turn to break now. “Now. Unless you have something better to do?”

There was an infinite number of things Rowan would rather be doing than confronting the most important people she had lost right after a kill she didn’t want to make. But nobody was ever able to resist Gansey, not her, not her old team, nobody. It had been years since she followed Gansey around like she was her personal lapdog, but old habits are hard to break, so she found herself agreeing.

In a dream-like state, she changed her clothes to look less like she was drunk off her mind and more like casual disinterest, her personal brand. She grabbed her keys, pocketed a gun just to be safe, and headed out.

The cold November wind rose the hairs on her arms, clearing her head a little bit more. With every second she waited for the car to pick her up, she got a little bit more nervous. Despite everything, she still harboured great affection for her former friends, affection she wasn’t likely to lose. Rowan Lynch wasn’t a people’s person and once she had latched onto someone, they stayed with her forever, even if they didn’t want her in their lives anymore.

She would do anything for them and a feeling, low in her stomach, told her that’s what they were going to ask for. 

Rowan didn’t recognise the chauffeur that picked her up and it hit her harder than she thought it would. The pain hadn’t left when she did, but it did become easier over the years. There were nights when she could actually sleep, when she didn’t drink until she couldn’t remember anything but a hazy blur of hands and tongue down her throat, when she wouldn’t stand on the edge of a tall building, wondering if they would care at all. But now, with a new car and a new chauffeur that belonged to the old company, the pain came back in full force. 

Their first headquarters, the one she, Regina “Gina” Campbell Gansey III and Noelle Czerny had started was built in an old factory in Henrietta, Virginia. They had met how most superhero teams met; through recruitment. Once you did something with some kind of power, Welk Inc. located in Seattle of all places, would track you down, no matter where you are in the world, and put you on missions they didn’t have the guts to complete. 

Most people were smart enough to keep their powers hidden, afraid they would have to fight in a battle they wouldn’t survive, like Noelle before she was discovered. Some didn’t have a choice but to use them, people like Gansey who saved someone important and made the news. And then there was the category almost nobody fell in, a category that was made up out of the Kavinsky’s of the world. The reckless youth that showed off their powers with pride, bearing their ugly souls for the world to see and were now on the run from officials that would claim them as theirs. Rowan herself came from a line of people with strange abilities. There had already been a mark on her back before she was born.

The mission had been merciless. They were ordered to kill everyone on sight or the consequences would make  _ them _ wish for death. They were young and impressionable, too afraid to misstep. They were merciless too.

Rowan had relished in the power she finally felt after years of being in her father’s shadow. She had been filled with pride when she realised she held the highest kill count.

After the briefing had taken place to congratulate them on a mission well done, she had overheard people talking. The people they killed weren’t bad for the world as they had been told, they were bad for the company. They had been old heroes, people like them, that had risen against the corporates that still held power over them. And they had murdered them all.

The pride Rowan had felt burned to ashes, leaving behind guilt and shame. Rowan could still hear the people in that building shouting when she closed her eyes.

Rowan told the others and the three barely adult heroes had numbly dragged themselves to a little fast-food place called Nino’s and swore to each other, over greasy pizza and warm milkshakes, that they wouldn’t be forced to go on a mission like that again.

So, they had set up their own headquarters in Monmouth Manufacturing and then later, when they had more money and even more ambition, they had moved to Seattle themselves, buying a skyscraper bigger than the Welk Inc. building. That’s when the rivalry started.

It seemed far away now, the missions the two headquarters fought over, the constant fucking each other over they had perfected over the years. Back when Ronan called the Cabeswater Tower home and she was a member of “The Raven Girls”, a stupid name for an inseparable team.

Or so she thought.

Now, as they were nearing the building on the other side of Seattle, Rowan felt a sharp pain of longing shoot through her, reminding her that there was a time when people still had her back, when she could do any mission, no matter the danger, knowing people were covering for her.

The building was taller than any other building surrounding it, the large Cabeswater logo on the side, three intersecting lines to correspond with the three barely adult girls that started it. Since Rowan had been gone, a helicopter landing place had been added to the building, making it look even more intimidating. 

Gansey must have made some good cash from the TV-interviews she did. 

The chauffeur motioned for her to get out and she followed him inside, the familiar entry hall filling the empty spaces her memory left her with. The walls were a pristine white, contrasted with heaps of plants and flowers everywhere Rowan had reprimanded Noelle for back when she placed the first few without warning. The collection had grown, though, leaving hardly any space for the waiting chairs next to the front desk where Rowan’s favourite receptionist was still working.

Mrs. Patricia “Patty” Jones had been the first person they hired. The girls needed someone to help them with the growing number of calls they received every day, with the paperwork that was starting to take more time than the missions themselves, with keeping them sane. Patty had been their saviour from total self-annihilation. She was more like their mom than any of their own mothers were to them. She made sure they were well-fed and not too exhausted from whatever mission they were working on while also managing the administrative part of their work. Rowan doesn’t think they would have made it without her. 

Patty was, besides a mother figure, also the person Rowan went to when everything became too much. Rowan is and never will be a person that opens up easily, lets just anyone see the purest form of her soul, but Patty, the middle-aged woman who never had children but instantly adopted three adults as her own, was her safe space. Her judgement of what Rowan did would have been one of the hardest things to deal with, so she never said goodbye, left without a word.

She still remembered Patty’s number by heart but she never dared to call her, beg for her forgiveness. But there she was, right in front of her with the same kind and patient smile she always wore. She moved from her place at the front desk and opened her arms immediately. 

Rowan rushed into her arms without a second thought, momentarily leaving behind the faux aloofness she wore like a second skin. She buried her face in Patty’s dark curls. She still smelled like freshly baked cookies.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, quickly letting go. Patty placed on hand on her shoulder, looking up at her with a warmth in her eyes Rowan didn’t think would ever be directed at her again.

“Don’t be scared,” she said, probably noting the fear in Rowan’s eyes she couldn’t keep contained. “It won’t be as bad as you’re expecting.”

Rowan nodded, not trusting her voice and stepped into the elevator, waiting for Patty to push in a new passcode she didn’t know. The dumb elevator music Gansey insisted on was still playing. Rowan had always hated it. It didn’t sound ‘uplifting’ as much as Gansey tried to convince her, but after years of missing out on that specific jingle Noelle picked out, it brought out a small smile she couldn’t keep in.

The elevator doors dinged open on the top floor and she was in the main office. The big space sleek and neat, filled to the brim with high tech electronics. People Rowan had never seen before were walking around the place with a sense of belonging she didn’t feel herself.

She spotted Gansey before she spotted her. Her brown hair was done up in a high bun, pieces falling out of it. Her white button-up was rumpled a slightly askew. Gansey always looked a bit frantic even if she wasn’t.

As if she felt Rowan’s eyes on her, she turned around quickly, her expression one of recognition but of nervosity too. Rowan was rooted to the floor when Gansey started to slowly walk her way, Gansey’s eyes never wavering from hers. Rowan felt her stomach drop, her hands shaking again as she prepared for the worst.

“You came,” Gansey said, her voice soft and full of wonder. Rowan suddenly felt like she was in one of the few good dreams she had. The dreams where she fixed everything and she could return before her mind twisted the image and Gansey was yelling at her to go and Noelle couldn’t look at her. The Gansey in front of her, though, was still looking at her like she had before  _ that  _ night and something in her chest loosened. 

“Yeah,” Rowan laughed uncomfortably. “I guess I am.”

“So, you’re the one that betrayed the team and blew up half the building!” 

Rowan’s face swivelled around to a short girl standing in front of them with her hands firmly placed on her sides. There was an edge in her voice that startled Rowan but she wasn’t going to show her that. Instead, she let her face harden, her eyes turn cold and unforgiving. She became what people called her on the news, in the streets, always said with a mixture of fear and disgust. 

_ The snake _ .

The girl didn’t waver, though, she held her gaze until it was Rowan who was ready to avert her own. She felt irritated, but deep respect for this girl was blooming too.

“Who the fuck is this maggot?” she directed this at Gansey. When she turned back the girl looked triumphant. Rowan was seething.

“This is Blue Sargent,” Gansey explained, her voice taking a dreaming tone that made Rowan’s eyebrows raise. “But we call her Jane.”

“You’re the only one who calls me ‘Jane’, Gans,” the maggot said, her voice softening. Rowan took Blue in, the mismatched clothes that looked like they were put through a paper shredder, the multi-coloured hair clips holding back her dark hair.

Rowan had a terrible feeling she was going to end up liking this girl.

“Rowan!” 

A body crashed into hers, nearly knocking her to the floor. She instantly felt herself relax, warmth flooding through her body in comforting waves.

“You’re doing the creepy thing again, aren’t you?”

Noelle looked up at her with big, too innocent eyes but Rowan couldn’t will herself in being angry and she knew that was purely her.

“Gansey? There has been an update on-“ the girl stopped in her tracks, watching the scene in front of her with calculating eyes. “Ehm, hello?”

The girl didn’t look particularly special, dusty brown unevenly chopped hair, light brown eyes, freckles covering her face and her arms that peeked out under her black t-shirt, but there was something about her. Something that piqued Rowan’s interest which was special in itself. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, with a quiet sort of determination and strength, the kind that came from too many hardships in life. Maybe it was the magic that seemed to roll off her and encapsulate everything that was standing too close.

“Your secretary, Gina?”

The girl looked unimpressed, much like Blue did, but this girl’s eyes held mild distaste. It affected Rowan more somehow.

“This is Ada Parrish,” Gansey introduced her. “Ada this is Rowan-”

“The traitor,” Ada finished.

Gansey unconsciously took a step back, clearly shocked by the clear display of rudeness. Rowan didn’t mind, though, she liked people with edges she could cut herself on. 

She pulled her mouth into a sharp smirk and turned her back to the Parrish girl, exploring the newly decorated headquarters instead. They had done a good job in hiding where the walls were once cracked from the impact of the blow. The scorch marks were hardly noticeable either and Rowan briefly wondered how much paint they had to use to cover those. Her mistakes had been erased like they were nothing and Rowan didn’t know if she should feel relieved or unsettled by it. 

They had taken her into their heavily armoured base with a warmth Rowan thought had vanished with the first bomb that went off. A bomb Kavinsky had placed along with a few other spread through the building. Two had gone off, one on the top floor and one in the training arena where Gansey had been practicing with her newly found interest in the martial arts. Rowan had been too high to move a muscle when Kavinksy placed them, too drunk to tell her to stop before she hurt somebody. Kavinsky had wormed her way into Rowan’s life and into Rowan’s head, persuading her to do things she never truly felt comfortable with. That was as much of an excuse as her intoxication, which wasn’t much of an excuse at all. Gansey could have died and it would have been her fault. 

If only she hadn’t given Kavinsky the passcode to the headquarters purely so she could sneak in and out between midnight mistakes, she would have still been a part of the team and this place would have felt like home as it must feel for the others. 

She would probably find another way to fuck up, though. It was one of the only things she’s good at.

“Hey,” Gansey called out softly from behind her. “It’s overwhelming, huh?”

“It’s fine.”

Gansey nodded her head at the door leading to Gansey’s office, located in the same place it has always been. Rowan followed her, watching as the strange people nodded or smiled at Gansey but looked at her with disdain. Rowan made herself appear bigger, moving her shoulders back to show off confidence she didn’t have. 

Gansey’s office was exactly like Rowan remembered it, though she knew it had to be rebuilt after the explosions. The walls were covered with bookcases, filled with old books in many different languages Rowan couldn’t make out. There were maps and documents strewn everywhere. Rowan never understood how Gansey could keep up any form of administration with the mess that was her office but she magically managed. 

There was a new addition to the office, though. An exact replica of a building Rowan recognised as Whelk Inc. was standing in the middle of the room unfinished. Rowan could almost imagine Gansey hunched over with the morning dawn rising through the big windows behind her. She always took up weird hobbies during her insomnia episodes but this seemed to be done with more purpose.

Rowan took a seat in front of Gansey’s big oakwood desk and resisted the urge to place her combat boot-clad feet on them.

“Why am I here?” she asked, cutting to the chase rather than having to sit through five minutes of small talk she couldn’t handle at the moment. There was too much tension holding her insides tight in its grip. 

“Whelk is back,” Gansey said simply.

“Whelk never left, Gansey.”

Gansey nodded in agreement but her brows were furrowed. “There have been incidents with other heroes. Many disappeared without a trace. I have reason to believe Whelk is involved.”

“How many is ‘many’?” Rowan felt nauseous. She may have left the superhero scene but these were still her people to some extent. She still cared about their well-being, though it wasn’t something she had admitted often.

“Half.”

“Shit.”

Gansey sighed, burrowing her hands in her hair, undoing her bun even more. “It started with the lesser-known ones, the heroes who didn’t exactly have the most powerful abilities. But Tammy vanished yesterday and-“

“Tammy?” Rowan’s heart skipped a beat. “Lightning powers Tammy?”

“That’s the one.”

“How am I supposed to stop him then?”

Gansey watched her in the brief moment of silence that followed, her eyes sympathetic. “I’m not asking you to go in alone, Rowan. I need to build a team of the strongest people and you are one of them. Besides me, you, Noelle, we started this together. I want us to end it together too.”

“We can’t defeat him with three people,” Rowan said slowly, willing to make Gansey understand this would be a suicide mission. She knew, if Gansey pushed too hard, she would do it anyway, knowing the risk but willing to jump into the danger without hesitation if that meant having Gansey back as her friend, her sister.

“Blue and Ada will join too.”

“The maggot and the secretary,” Rowan laughed but it died down quickly when she saw Gansey’s expression. There was no humour in her eyes, no tilt to her lips that would indicate this was anything but the truth.

“Really, Gansey?”

“You’re not convinced,” Gansey determined but there was no hurt in her voice, only something Rowan interpreted as mischief, something that was new to Gansey’s usual seriousness about everything involving work. “What if we showed you? Afterwards, you can decide if you want in or not.”

Rowan felt a surge of relief go through her. She had been ready to say yes to whatever Gansey was offering, anything to escape the life she had ruined for herself, but now she had a choice. And, for once, she was set on making the right one.

“Raven Girls!” Gansey shouted once they were out of the office. 

Blue turned towards her rapidly with a sneer. “I still hate that name.”

Rowan couldn’t contain a grin.

Gansey promptly ignored both of them and ordered them to “gear up”. Their interests were clearly piqued as they hurried to put on whatever superhero costume they had.

Having to leave the team was the worst possible thing that happened to Rowan, but if anything, she was glad she didn’t have to wear those dumb costumes anymore.

Gansey led her to the training area, despite Rowan knowing the layout of the building like the back of her hand. The three young girls from the past had mapped out the building dozens of times before they were capable of buying it. They had planned everything from the designated sleeping, training, working areas, to the colours of the walls and the decorations of the lobby. Though the building was renewed and rebuild, Rowan still found herself walking the familiar hallway past the sickbay to the arena where they would train for battles. 

They sat down in the visitor part, where they could oversee the entire arena. Dummies were lining the walls, some with bullet holes, some with knife cuts, some brand new. Mats were sprawled around, all meant for fighting. Rowan had spent more time here than any of her teammates ever did. This used to be her place to unwind, to train until she couldn’t think about anything else anymore. 

She had to remind herself this space wasn’t hers anymore. 

Noelle came out first, waving excitedly at them. She was wearing her usual outfit, a black one-piece, her body fully covered except from her face. There were streaks of silver woven through the fabric which she had insisted on. Rowan nodded her head in acknowledgement then turned to Gansey.

“I already know what Noelle’s powers do.”

“Not anymore,” Gansey explained, “her powers have grown. All of ours have.”

Noelle smiled innocently before closing her eyes. The intrusion of Noelle’s power was strange yet familiar. She felt herself get giddy, excitement filling her body, though she didn’t know what for. Then everything suddenly dropped, anger taking its place with rapid speed. It felt like she had never been happy in her life before.

Noelle raised a hand, pointed at Rowan and slowly brought it down. With every movement down, Rowan felt herself get more tired, her eyes starting to fall shut before she was snapped awake again.

She had seen Noelle tap into people’s feelings, emotions, alter them to her will. But she had never seen her do  _ that _ and not from such a big distance either.

“The hell was that?” she asked Gansey, moving away from Noelle’s childlike smile she never lost.

“She can tap into energy levels now too,” Gansey explained after raising a thumbs up at Noelle who climbed up to join them. “And on a much bigger scale than before.”

“A lot has changed,” Rowan said, more to herself, but she saw Gansey nod from the corner of her eyes. Gansey’s shoulders were hunched forward as if the sadness she carried was getting too heavy for her to bear. Rowan suppressed the remorse welling in her chest and instead focussed on Blue who was entering the area now.

Her costume was more of a deep blue, accents placed on her arms and legs that from far away almost looked like little mirrors that reflected everything around her. 

Blue looked up for a second. Rowan blinked. Blue was gone and in her place, Rowan saw her own face looking back at her.

It was a mirror image of herself. From her buzzcut, down to her scarred eyebrows, the clear blue but bloodshot eyes staring back. Her body looked uncannily the same too, her lean muscles on display in the tight suit Blue was wearing.

Rowan had to admit that Blue might be more helpful in battle than she initially thought.

The thought had barely left her when there was an object flying at her, lodging itself in the wall next to her just a hairbreadth away from her face. There was a pink switchblade stick out, buried deep in the cushioned wall. 

Rowan didn’t close her open mouth quickly enough and was once again met with the victorious gaze of Blue Sargent. Rowan glared at her but she knew it wasn’t effective, there was too much respect growing for her already. 

Gansey turned to her then, her face a bit more relaxed now that Rowan has more or less accepted Blue as a maybe useful member of the team. “Before Ada shows what she can do, I want to tell you about my powers.”

“Go for it.”

“Remember how I charm spoke people into giving me things?”

Rowan nodded.

“I can demand them to do things now too,” Gansey confessed. “I don’t use it often but it’s a thing now.”

“As long as you don’t use it on me,” Ronan mocked, though there was an edge of seriousness to her tone too. Kavinsky had demanded enough of her and if Gansey were to do that too… She wasn’t sure if she could handle that.

“I won’t,” Gansey told her. “I promise.”

When Ada entered the arena she was another person. Her shoulders were pushed back, her back straight as she walked in oozing confidence. Her face was determined but stoic, an expression in her eyes that made even Rowan waver for a second. There was nothing left from the secretary look either. Ada’s costume was a deeper black Rowan had ever seen, green and golden vines twining up her body before they sprawled out in all directions right over her chest.

She was standing in the middle not moving a muscle but she had her audience enraptured. Nobody spoke, nobody even dared to blink, too afraid they would miss what she was about to show them. 

The ground began to shake beneath her feet, the vibrations travelling upwards until Rowan had to hold on to the railing of their little balcony to prevent herself from falling over. 

The floor split open and vines rose from the open spaces, slithering around Ada’s body then lifting her to the ceiling. She stayed there for a moment, the fluorescent lights catching her hair. For a split second, it looked like fire. 

Then she let herself fall.

Rowan gasped quietly, trying to will herself into shut her eyes and not watch the pretty girl plummet herself to death. But she kept them up and she watched as the vines formed a slide instead, catching Ada on the oncoming wave of them. Her body was sure as she rode the vines through the big space as if she had done it a million times before.

She came to a stop right in front of Rowan. There was a glint in her eyes. And then she was gone again. 

The vines disappeared, the floor knotted itself close, and it was like nothing ever happened. Blue and Noelle cheered for her but Rowan could only stare, watch as Ada’s freckled cheeks darkened under the attention of the others, observe how she was swaying lightly on her feet.

A hand on her shoulder startled her so badly she jumped up, fist raised towards Blue who was still holding onto her. 

“We showed what we can do,” Blue said. “But what can you do exactly?”

Rowan glanced at Gansey who nodded at her. “Follow me then.”

When everybody was standing in the arena, Rowan closed her eyes and reached deep within her to magic she hasn’t touched in years. For a few antagonising seconds there was nothing, just an empty well where once her magic rested. Then she felt it. Her magic was a weak sliver, nothing more, but it was there. She took ahold of it and pulled upwards until she could feel it streaming out of her body. When she opened her eyes they were surrounded by a multitude of constellations, some existing, some made up from Rowan’s own mind. 

Ada walked forward apprehensively and touched one of the stars. It turned into a firefly in her hand, lighting up her face as she brought it closer for inspection. The firefly flew away when she got too close, setting off a chain reaction that transformed the other stars in fireflies as well. They swarmed the group in flashes of light and then they vanished, leaving only the arena standing.

“What in the world?” Blue asked, staring at Rowan in wonder instead of her usual apprehension. 

“I can bend reality,” Rowan said casually. “Not as well as I used to but-“

“It’s incredible,” Ada whispered from right next to her. She was inspecting the hand where the firefly had rested. “How many people can you do at once?”

“My, my, Parrish,” Rowan smirked sharply. “Very forward of you.”

Ada rolled her eyes so far back, for a second Rowan thought they were going to get stuck. “I’m serious. No need to be such an asshole about it.”

“I’m an asshole about everything. You better get used to it.”

Ada looked a Gansey. “Is it too late to pick someone else?”

Gansey didn’t answer but something in her eyes warned Ada not to overstep. Ada’s eyes hardened but she walked away, leaving the room with quick steps.

Rowan ignored Gansey calling her name and followed Ada quickly down the hallway, pulling on her wrist to stop her. Ada janked her arm away from Rowan’s grip. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she said through clenched teeth. Rowan took a step back, hands raised in the air to not make her even angrier. Ada relaxed a bit.

“Ten,” Rowan said.

Ada stared at her for a long moment before she lost her patience. “Ten what?”

“I can reach about ten people,” Rowan explained. She could feel her face flush from embarrassment. 

There was a time where she could control rooms full of people, when her power was still well trained and seemingly unending. She had felt on top of the world back then, more powerful than any human being alive, though she knew she was hardly near the top. But she was young and still in awe of herself and what she could do. Now she was but an empty shell of the hero she used to be, preferring fists over a power she never truly got to understand. She could trust her fists, her body, her fighting techniques. She couldn’t trust a wild form of magic she didn’t always have control over.

Ada didn’t look fazed or judgemental. She merely nodded and spared her one last glance before she turned on her heel and walked away.

Gansey came from behind her and threw an arm around her shoulders Rowan didn’t have the energy to throw off.

“Welcome to the team.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr](clawsnbeak.tumblr.com)


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